Requiem of a Hardorn Noble
by orlitza2000
Summary: Etched into the stone of the dungeons under King Tremane’s manor is a journal entry of a girl…


Requiem of a Hardorn Noble  
orlitza2000 Rating – PG, because of vague adult situations. If it involves Ancar how could it not? Summary – Etched into the stone of the dungeons under King Tremane's manor is a journal entry of a girl...  
  
They told me it was an accident... 'Simply a quirk of Fate', they said.  
'It was a freak accident', 'A quirk of Fate', and my personal favorite, 'No one knows why these things happen... They just do!'  
Excuses upon excuses, upon excuses. The truth was simple. My sister was dead and by an 'accidental' incident with cosmic proportions.  
How does a person trip over a prince anyway? ESPECIALLY Prince Ancar? His ego is the size of a signal tower and his cruelty bigger yet.  
I never understand how King Alessander could not see it. Maybe the King's eyes were blinded; if not by his love for his son than surely by the Royal Whelp's mages.  
Maybe I should go back and explain all of this. Otherwise anyone who reads this will be utterly confused.  
My name is Christa Allsen Langenfeld, fourth daughter of the Lord and Lady Langenfeld, named after the great King Alessander. I live in Hardorn, on the same land my great-great-great- many times great grandfather tilled and claimed with my parents, my brother Ricard, my sisters Kym, Cheri, and Kathryn, plus many fosterlings, servants, retainers, and others.  
Bear with me while I ramble and I apologize in advance for any confusion on my part that I may bring. But there is only one thing I can say right now...  
My King, my father's liege, is dead. King Alessander is now gone.  
If you are to believe Ancar, KING Ancar, then the Heraldic Envoys, arrived the day my Lord died, held the crossbows that shot him.  
I didn't believe him, and now I'm here; in a dark, smelly dungeon, brought here from the dungeons of my OWN manor!  
I couldn't believe him though! Prince, excuse me, KING Ancar and I are near the same age. Kathryn and I, twins, were three years younger. We grew up beside him, in the same court, with the same tutors. We saw what a beast he was and is.  
His servants would disappear with no trace after angering him, he raped the serving girls and often would do much worse.  
Ancar killed his father, and seized the throne.  
  
It was a welcoming party for Queen Selenay's envoys. Father had been telling me about it when it was being planned. Everyone that was there died. Including my Father, Mother, Ricard, Kym and Cheri who had all been there to welcome the envoys and look for husbands for Kym and Cheri. I had a stomach-ache and stayed home. That was all that saved me from Ancar's madness. Everyone who would defy him is dead or soon to be. Even as I wait here in the dark, writing what I know for the future generations, I can feel my own time coming. It seems everyone is dying. Those nobles who didn't die that first night were hunted like dogs the months after.  
My family nurse was hiding me but Ancar's mages still found us. She was flayed and killed on the spot but I was brought back to my manor to be kept for the VERY public execution as a traitor the coming weeks. But instead months go by. I don't know much of what's happening outside these prison walls; all I get is in the muted whispers between the prison scum that are guarding these dungeons. The same prison scum that might have occupied my own cell, in fact. The irony of it doesn't escape me, OR them. They are... untoward to me. I am often raped twice, three times, and more a night. The only thing that keeps me going is the thought of Hardorn; my country, my home... who will save her if I give up? Not the guard, not the peasants, surely not the Heralds! Not after the deaths of their envoys. Even if I die I must give an example for the others. Inspire them to help our country, our poor Hardorn. If they see my needless death then maybe it will spark the sense of Justice that I know lies in them. Only we can save our country, and us, now.  
  
The days pass in a blur of activity. I finally get the whole story. The Valdemaran Queen beat the Whelp. Uneven forces and all. They even managed to save one of their envoys, although that is a closely guarded secret. Ancar wouldn't want anyone to know of his failure. I heard that the Whelp is enraged. He must be, because he's going to execute all the nobles now. A message, I suppose, to the peasants. Telling them just because he was defeated in one battle, he won't tolerate any rebellion they stir up. I fear for them. After all this time, waiting and thinking, I remember even more about Ancar than I ever wanted to. The knowledge only hindsight can bring has set forth in me. Now I know what happened to the missing servants. Now I know what happened to Kathryn.  
  
He had been seventeen to our fourteen. Father had brought us to the palace to meet the King and Prince Ancar. Also Kathryn wanted to see some Healers; the ones with the gift. Kathryn was heading back to the Healers that day. She wanted to be a Healer; she wanted to Heal people and animals... I wanted to show her some snake eggs I had found. I searched and searched for her but I couldn't find her. I finally found her on the ground, the Prince standing over her with a strange look on his face. At the time I thought he was horrified. I even reassured him that it wasn't his fault when he 'confessed' what had happened. Apparently my sister tripped over him, and fell and broke her neck. They told me it was an accident... Everyone knows that Ancar likes them young and innocent. That was Kathryn. She wanted to Heal the world. He killed her. Ancar killed my sister. I can see it now.  
My family is dead. Soon I'll be too. I hope that Hardorn can pull above this, I know that I can't.... Maybe I'll get away... Maybe I'll kill my guards when they come for me... Maybe I'll run away into Valdemar and escape from here... But I know I can't. I love Hardorn. I love my country. I'd rather die here, than escaping from here, or an attack on what a common man would think was just a peddler. I'm glad that my death is on Hardorn's soil. It's just that I had expected it to be in seventy odd years. Not so soon. Not so alone...  
  
At least after this I won't be alone. I'll be with Kathryn. No more nights of waking up confused, looking for a missing part of me. No more days of turning around and expecting to see my twin sister waving at me. I won't be alone anymore. I hope Hardorn won't be also.  
  
They're coming for me now. I can hear the footsteps above me. I am to be executed today. It won't take long for them to get here and haul me out for the useless massacre.  
I should stop writing now... They won't want the events of these days lasting past the youngest generations. My death will be worse, more painful, if they see it.  
They're not far off now. I'll soon be dragged out of here and forced to march with a bunch of noble's children and grandparents back to the capital.  
I hope someone saves me, but I know it won't happen. I can only pray that my country, and my people will be spared. This is such a wonderful country. My manor is beside a beautiful town called Shonar. I love it here. Every morning I woke up to see the young children herding sheep and hear the noises of small town gossip.  
At least I'll be with my sister. I just have to keep saying that to myself. Maybe it will take the pain away...?  
At least I'll be with Katy, I won't be alone.  
Goodbye, Hardorn. Don't die with your nobles and your King. Don't die like my sister did.  
Live on, please live on.  
- CAL 


End file.
